


Echo

by wreckofherheart



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alzheimer's Disease, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 03:56:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8313118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wreckofherheart/pseuds/wreckofherheart
Summary: ‘Who am I?’

  Peggy glances up from her breakfast.

  ‘What’s my name?’

  ‘Angie. Your name is Angie, and my name is Peggy.’

  Out of relief, out of fear, Angie turns away and hides her tears. But Peggy can feel them, hot on her flesh, punishing them both. She stands, walking towards her, before wrapping her arms around her waist. Peggy cuddles her fiercely, nearly crushing her ribs, and Angie starts to tremble.

  ‘I’ll always know who you are, my love. I promise.’ Peggy hides her face into the back of Angie’s shoulder, and has to cry a little too. ‘Even if I don’t recognise you, I’ll still know.’

  Angie inhales sharply. One final tear falls from her sweet face. ‘What’s my name?’

  When Peggy tightens her embrace, Angie simply wants to hide away.

  She can’t remember.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dontstraytoofar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontstraytoofar/gifts).



At first, she forgets little things. Irrelevant things which are _so_ relevant. Perhaps her car keys, or her own phone number, whether or not her birthday is in July or June. Then they become big, scary and determined things. She forgets where she lives, the name of her nephew; and when she looks her wife in the eye, she suddenly doesn’t recognise her. 

When Peggy Carter watches her own reflection in the mirror, she only sees a stranger.

The disease is called Alzheimer’s. And there isn’t a cure.

Gradually, and yet, all too fast, Peggy’s memories will fade. One day, her whole life will have been torn from her mind, and everybody she ever loved will have vanished. 

For the first time in years, she is terrified; terrified because when she looks at those she adores, she will have no idea who they are.

It is quite like dying. Just the body refuses to decay with the brain.

The woman is shook. This is an infection, a weapon; this is fatal and dangerous, and completely out of her control.

 

 

 

 

 

‘Who am I?’

Peggy glances up from her breakfast. 

‘What’s my name?’

‘Angie. Your name is Angie, and my name is Peggy.’

Out of relief, out of fear, Angie turns away and hides her tears. But Peggy can feel them, hot on her flesh, punishing them both. She stands, walking towards her, before wrapping her arms around her waist. Peggy cuddles her fiercely, nearly crushing her ribs, and Angie starts to tremble.

‘I’ll always know who you are, my love. I promise.’ Peggy hides her face into the back of Angie’s shoulder, and has to cry a little too. ‘Even if I don’t recognise you, I’ll still _know_.’

Angie inhales sharply. One final tear falls from her sweet face. ‘What’s my name?’

When Peggy tightens her embrace, Angie simply wants to hide away.

She can’t remember.

 

 

 

 

 

Tony visits, and Howard doesn’t waste time to abandon his child.

Business. Apparently. Peggy glares at him, and it’s clear another woman is involved. 

For the most part, Tony is a good boy. Instantly he falls asleep in his aunt’s arms, and Peggy gently places him in his cot. That’s when Angie returns home. 

‘I thought we had the night to ourselves?’

‘Howard thought otherwise, dear. Just for tonight.’

Angie scowls. Peggy sighs, reclined. Of course Angie isn’t angry at Tony. She adores the child. It’s Howard she’s livid at, and no amount of discussion will calm her down. ‘Who does he think he is?’ She has this ugly, upset look in her eyes, and it breaks Peggy’s heart. As Angie passes, a flame in her step, Peggy hears her whisper: ‘How dare he treat his baby this way?’

It is personal. 

It is personal, because the amount of time they have left together is severely limited. And it is personal, because Angie is all too aware of parents who don’t care about their children. If Howard truly believes he can abandon his child, he is very wrong.

Early morning is when Howard returns. Before Peggy can answer the door, Angie beats her to it.

‘He is staying here!’

‘Angie, stop.’

Howard widens his eyes. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You ain’t gonna take him, just to drop him back here again. Ya hear? _Go away_.’

Peggy places a hand on her shoulder. Angie is _shaking_. 

‘He’s my son.’

‘Sure don’t act like he is!’

Howard steps forward, and Peggy incorrectly assumes he’s going to make a threat. Something _snaps_ , and she places herself in between the two. Her hand is on his chest, and she has pushed him out of the doorway. Howard gasps, but Peggy is too distracted to understand the betrayal in his gaze.

‘Both of you, _quiet_. You’re acting ridiculous.’ Howard opens his mouth to retort, but Peggy cuts through him. Calmly, she says, ‘I shall go and fetch your son. I apologise. Please, wait here.’ She gives Angie a disciplining look, and does as she promises. Angie stays put, fists clenched, glaring at the floor. _Detesting_. Howard wisely backs off, and waits.

Tony is only half conscious when he’s returned to his father. It’s early, and the child requires more sleep. He whines when Howard forces him to walk. Peggy kisses Tony on the cheek, before taking Angie’s hand, and taking a hold of the door.

‘He had a nightmare, by the way,’ Angie says, voice surprisingly cold. ‘You never spend a night with him, so thought you should know.’

This hurts. Howard’s upper lip curls into a sneer. ‘I didn’t know you both felt this way.’ He meets Peggy’s gaze, but she refuses to feel guilty. 

Because, at the end of the day, Angie’s fury is directed at something else entirely.

‘Tony is _always_ welcome to stay here. As long as he wants to. Good bye.’

The door is closed, and Angie doesn’t say another word the whole day.

 

 

 

 

 

Dinner is always warm and filled with love. 

That’s how Angie cooks. And she cooks, because she loves. So when Peggy comes back from _Shield_ , worn out and hungry, Angie has already set the table. Already poured them both a glass of red wine, and the food smells incredible.

‘Darling?’

‘In here!’ Angie hurries to the kitchen doorway, and Peggy appears, removing her jacket.

There’s a smile on her face, a genuine, happy smile.

Until she looks at Angie.

She frowns at her, then takes a step back. ‘Oh. Uh, I apologise. I must have––’ She peers back to the door. ‘Pardon me. I must have forgotten my address.’

‘Pegs?’

At the sound of her name, Peggy widens her eyes. 

Angie’s heart shatters to pieces, but she tries _so_ hard to not show her agony. ‘Pegs, it’s me. Angie. You’re in the right place, okay?’

‘I––’ Peggy looks around her, frantic and confused. ‘Oh, goodness. What’s happening?’

‘You’re home.'

‘No, I––I don’t know who you are!’

‘Peggy––’

‘Don’t touch me. Get away from me. Where is he?’

Angie stops. Her breath catches, and tears sting her eyes. 

‘Where is he? What have you done with him?’

‘Peggy? Steve’s dead. He died years ago. It’s me, Angie. Remember?’

There’s a long, horrifying minute of silence. Peggy steps back again, staring at her. She presses a hand to her chest, and then it all comes back to her. Everything. She covers her mouth with her palm, and bursts into tears. 

Angie grabs her. She holds her, and digs her fingers into her jacket, trying, trying, trying to stop the pain.

But even she can’t stop crying.

‘It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. I know.’

Peggy strokes Angie’s hair, looks at her as if no one in the world could ever deserve such an angel. 

‘Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m _sorry_.’

 

 

 

 

 

Before going to work, Peggy kisses her. 

‘I love you.’

Angie smiles into her next kiss. 

In Peggy’s mind, they’re nearing thirty. Young and falling in love. 

‘You’ll be amazing at your audition today.’

She lives in a world where Angie still clings onto that hope, this silly hope of becoming an actress. 

For Broadway, for the dance, the singing, the applause. 

Angie holds Peggy’s face, and kisses her roughly. ‘I love _you_. Come home safely, all right?’

‘Of course.’

And she does return home safely. She returns home to her wife, her mind as it should be, all memories intact. Angie doesn’t tell her about that morning.

Peggy hasn’t forgotten.

 

 

 

 

 

A celebratory party is being held at _Shield_ headquarters, and Peggy looks ravishing. In all honesty, Angie can’t keep her eyes off her, and she’s falling in love with her wife all over again. As Director, Peggy reluctantly allows herself to be dragged away. To mingle with colleagues, hear about new ideas, inventions; rubbish she doesn’t have time for. 

The wine tastes good, and Angie nabs a second glass. Howard approaches her, an apology in his eyes. Before he can speak, Angie stops him. ‘Don’t give it another thought. I––I think I just had a bad day, y’know?’

Howard smiles. ‘It’s Peggy. Isn’t it?’

‘What?’

Howard doesn’t answer. His wife has arrived, and all three are pulled into another discussion. Holidays, children, the stress of getting a decent pension. It seems as if Angie and Howard have rekindled, said sorry for their mistake, and moved on.

An hour passes before Peggy is freed from her duty, and returns to Angie’s side. She joins the three of them, and Maria turns to greet her: ‘Oh, Peggy! This is such a wonderful event. Thank you for inviting us.’

‘Not at all!’ She offers Maria a hand to shake. ‘I regret we haven’t met before. Who might you be?’

Maria’s smile drops. Angie clears her throat, and takes Peggy’s hand instead. ‘She’s just messin’ with ya! Nice one, Pegs. Maria was nearly fooled there.’ She nervously laughs, and is relieved when Howard plays along. Peggy blinks, puzzled. 

Even though she can’t recall the woman, she is willing to cooperate. A part of her says she has to.

‘Heh.’ She squeezes Angie’s hand. ‘Apologies. Angie’s right: I’m only pulling your leg.’

‘Oh.’ Maria looks at Howard, unconvinced. 

Peggy swallows. Releases Angie’s hand, and Angie can _feel_ this brilliant woman’s confidence get _crushed_. Bowed head, she walks past Angie, and says, ‘I’ll meet you at the car, dear.’ Angie watches Peggy leave the room, and her heart is racing.

She says good bye to the Starks, and races after Peggy. The night is cold, and Peggy is underdressed. Angie doesn’t want her to catch anything, so takes her hand, and quickens their pace to the car. 

‘I’ll drive.’

‘Pegs, I think I should––’

‘ _I shall drive_.’

Angie stops Peggy from opening the car door. ‘You can’t drive.’

‘Yes, I can. Don’t be silly.’

‘No!’ Angie yanks the car keys from her. ‘Peggy, do me this _one_ favour, okay? Let me drive.’

Peggy’s jaw clenches. For a moment, Angie thinks she’s going to yell, but her voice comes out in a timid whisper: ‘I know what I did there. I’m sorry. I––I promise, it won’t happen again.’

‘Shh. I… I believe you. It was just a tiny accident. Even I struggled to recognise her at first!’

Peggy smiles. She smiles, because she knows Angie is lying for her sake. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’ Angie reaches out, touches her face. ‘C’mon. Let’s get outta here. Stinks of old people.’

They crack a grin, and laugh. The journey home spent with held hands, and little jokes. Everything except what happened in that room.

 

 

 

 

 

Angie’s workday is always brightened when Peggy appears. Even after all of these years. 

She pours Peggy her usual: early grey, with lemon. The younger woman catches her eye, and smiles crookedly, but when Peggy tries to return it, she fails miserably. A tear is threatening to escape, and she quickly wipes it away.

‘Hey. What’s wrong?’

‘I, uh…’ Peggy sniffs, and laughs quietly. ‘I just had a bad day, that’s all.’

Angie narrows her brows. Leans across the bar. ‘I’m all ears, hon. What happened?’

‘Um. A colleague of mine passed away.’

‘Were you close to them?’

‘Not necessarily. In fact, I found him quite disagreeable, but it was a bit of a shock.’ She chuckles. ‘It’s naive, I know: I just _hoped_ that after the war, things would be a little better. Easier to handle. I had hoped the world would stop dying.’

Peggy has witnessed many deaths. Hundreds. As Director of a huge organisation, she is accustomed to death, and so very few phase her.

This is why Angie knows they’ve just met in Peggy’s mind.

Mere acquaintances. Before friends, before lovers, before sharing vows together.

Peggy trails off, and allows the topic to wither. She looks away. Gazes out of the window almost dreamily. 

‘I’ll tell ya what you need.’

‘Yes?’

‘Rubbery pie and schnapps. How about it? Let’s see who makes each other sick first.’

Peggy smiles sadly.

‘I’m happy to take you up on that offer.’

After her shift, they do just that. Share rubbery pie, drink until their bellies can carry no more alcohol. Fall into each others arms, and kiss their bodies warm. She makes love to Angie as she always has done: tender as the night, as soft as any lover could be. She feels perfect, and home, and just as it all was thirty years ago. Nothing has changed. 

They wake up in the morning, undressed, with only the sheets to protect them. Peggy laughs at their mischief, and kisses Angie deeply. They’re smiling, and happy, and when Angie looks into her eyes, it’s so clear. Peggy knows, and Peggy recalls exactly who this amazing woman is.

The very person who gives her reason to remember.

 

 

 

 

 

‘Who am I?’

Angie has braced herself for the worst. For Peggy’s foggy eyes to look at her, and for Peggy to feel _nothing_. So Peggy looks at this woman, this small, ageing woman. A mug of tea in her hands, still in her gown, a ring on her finger, hair in disarray. And her eyes wide, hoping, _hoping_. 

It’s the most beautiful sight in the world.

Peggy kisses her. 

‘Your name is Angie,’ she says, bright and alive. ‘The love of my life.’


End file.
